Stand My Ground
by Gomorrha
Summary: The war is over, the light has won, but something dark is growing inside Harry. Will he win the fight against himself and at which price?...HarryDraco, MPD, warnings: slash, ritual murders, dark!Harry ON HIATUS UNTIL I FINISHED DEMONCHILD
1. Losing Time

The rights of 'Harry Potter' belong to Joanne K. Rowling and Warner Brothers.

I don´t receive any monetary reward for writing this story, but feedback from my readers, which is reward enough for me.

The war is over. The light has won...but something dark is growing inside Harry.

Will he win the fight against himself? And at which price...?

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Harry/Draco

abusive!Harry dark!Harry hero!Harry

warnings: slash, darkfic, possible main character death

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Stand My Ground

1. Losing Time

Harry carried the wooden cutting board over to the dustbin and opened the lid. With the edge of the kitchen knife in his hand he shoved the remains of the carrots he had just cut off the board, watching how they landed on unmistakable shards of light blue coloured china. He sighed in annoyance, saying farewell to the broken tea cup, before he shut the lid.

"Draco, you smashed one of my favourite cups!" he accusingly called in the direction of the living room.

The softly clattering sounds emerging from the next room, indicating that his boyfriend was laying the table, came to a halt, replaced by approaching steps. Draco´s slightly confused face appeared in the door frame, and grey eyes settled on Harry.

"What are you talking about, Harry? I did not destroy anything." Draco said, feeling a small stab in his heart at the disappointed look Harry gave him.

Harry huffed, opening the lid of the dustbin again to take out the piece of the broken cup to which the handle was attached, sliding his finger through the small loop. He turned towards the blonde, who stared at him with defiance, having his arms crossed and one delicate eyebrow raised.

"This cup I´m talking about. You know that I love this china, Draco. Molly gave it to me last Christmas. Couldn´t you take better care?" Harry said, tired of his love´s careless attitude.

"Merlin´s beard, Harry! If I had been the one who has broken your cup, wouldn´t I simply have repaired it? I _am _a wizard, after all," Draco hissed, his face flushing slightly as he picked the shards out of the waste to drop them on the counter with a disgusted face, before he added the last shard, which was dangling from Harry´s index finger. "_Scourgify_! _Reparo_!"

"See!" Draco grinned triumphantly, slapping the cup into Harry´s hand. "There you go, Harry. Your precious cup is whole once again."

Harry stared in confusion at the cup in his hand, wondering why Draco would have thrown the shards away before, as it was indeed easy to repair a broken cup. Maybe Draco was still harbouring a secret grudge against the Weasley´s, though it was rather unlikely, as Draco and Ron had become great chums since Harry had started to go out with Draco. Nevertheless the broken cup had to be Draco´s doing, because Harry had not even taken tea this morning. They had slept in, wonderfully exhausted from a night of hot, steaming sex.

"This is the second time now, that you are accusing me of breaking something! You are the one living here, not me. Are you sure you have no poltergeist in the house? After all this shack you´ve bought is old enough to come complete with ghosts," Draco drawled, clearly expecting an apology.

Harry kept his head down and looked up through his long, dark eyelashes, giving Draco the puppy-look, before he smiled and wound his arms around the blonde.

"I´m sorry, Draco. It was stupid of me to think you would do such a thing. Forgive me?" Harry whispered, locking his gaze with the stormy grey of his lover.

One of the things Harry loved in Draco were his impressive eyes. Some people might think that they were cold and hard like stone, but that was not the whole truth. They could be warm and sad and loving and sparkling with mirth. Right now he could observe how they changed from a light marble grey to a warmer, darker shade, shining with love.

"´course I forgive you, Harry, you know that," Draco assured him, moving closer until his lips touched Harry´s in a short, sweet kiss, his tongue only following the outlines of Harry´s lips without ever entering his mouth.

"I have to continue cooking." Harry said, withdrawing from the warm embrace with regret. "Our friends will be here soon."

"Can´t we fire-call Ron and Hermione to tell them to come another day?" Draco whined, trying to pull Harry into his arms once again.

"We´ve already done that the last time we´ve invited them. You should stop thinking with your dick," Harry scolded, although he would barter a lazy afternoon with their friends any time for a lazy afternoon in bed with Draco.

Harry couldn´t deny that he was a horny young man, as the tightness of his trousers clearly stated. Well, better young and horny than young and dead, he thought, vividly remembering the war which had ended only a year ago. Suddenly he felt not so happy and horny again. Harry put the cup with a loud clank into the sink. He avoided Draco´s hurt gaze, as Harry was not ready to talk about the war, and maybe would never be. He had fulfilled his duty and killed Voldemort, but he would never talk about the things he had seen and done in this accursed war.

"Right. I´ll go and finish setting the table," Draco grumbled, trying to shake off the slight hurt he felt as Harry scowled at him, just because he had suggested to have fun alone instead of with friends.

Within the last months Harry had developed terrible mood swings. Had Harry been a woman Draco would have suspected him to be pregnant. He had started to worry about the emotional Gryffindor when those nightmares had begun three months ago, deeply unsettled by Harry´s screams, which were shocking him out of his sleep at least once a week since then. Draco had already talked to Ron about them, whose alarmed face had told him that this was not the first time Harry had such problems.

Harry had every right to be uptight, Draco thought, as his whole youth had been overshadowed by the Dark Lord. Draco would never want to carry such responsibility on his shoulders, as Harry had done. Draco snorted at the thought that Harry was the prototype of a Gryffindor with his hero-complex. No matter into which crappy situation life manoeuvered him, Harry always managed to come out as the hero. Maybe that was one reason why Draco felt so drawn towards him, as Harry could make him feel protected and cared for like nobody else before him.

One hour later they were sitting at the dining table, sending each other loving looks and smiles and playing footsie under the table as if they were teens, while Ron and Hermione were bickering over the name for their first child. The baby was due in five weeks time and still they had not even remotely decided on a name. Draco was very grateful for being gay. Children were a pest, and even though Harry dreamed of their own child, they had not decided to adopt one so far.

"What is wrong with Josephine? Josephine Weasley is a sophisticated name, Ron!" Hermione pouted with tears in her eyes.

"´Mione, don´t do this to me! Don´t you start crying now. You can´t blackmail me into liking that name. Audrey Weasley sounds much better. Mates, what name do you like better?" Ron asked, his face comically screwed up with despair.

"Josephine." "Audrey."

Harry and Draco said at the same time, before they looked at each other and, turning back towards the expecting couple, now said the name the other one had claimed before.

"Audrey." "Josephine."

Draco snickered at Harry´s innocent look.

"Blimey! The two of you are just as weird as the twins," Ron said, shaking his head in wonder.

"You should give it a Muggle name. After all it will be the bastard of a Mudblood and a blood-traitor," Harry deadpanned, shocking them all for an awkward moment into silence.

"What did you just say, Harry?" Hermione finally asked with a shaken smile, while Draco and Ron were still gaping at Harry, who calmly took a sip of his wine, looking for all the world as if nothing out of the normal had happened.

"Now that I come to think of it, you should drown your worthless spawn at its first cry," Harry said quietly, sneering at them.

"What the fuck-" Ron jumped up, a murderous expression on his face.

"Harry, what has come over you? Hermione, Ron, I´m sure he is just joking, no, drunk, yes, drunk. Let´s get you into bed, Harry!" Draco sputtered, frantically trying to pull Harry out of his chair to propel him out of the room.

Harry would have none of it. He violently pushed Draco away, as he got up, almost causing the blonde to crash to the floor.

"Take your hands off me, Malfoy! And don´t call me Harry." Harry hissed, as his face contorted with loathing. "I´m sure you would like to have me in bed, dirty faggot. Do you open your legs for everybody who is willing to fuck a blood-traitor, or only for the famous ones?"

All colour drained from Draco´s face as he stared with disbelief at the man he loved. Harry radiated such hatred and brutality that Draco instinctively receded when his boyfriend stepped closer to him.

"Stop this, Harry! You are frightening me!" Hermione pleaded, clinging to a furious Ron to hold him back.

Harry slowly turned towards Hermione, sneering again as he let his glittering eyes wander over her swollen middle, which she immediately encircled with her arms to hide it from his sight. The trembling woman shrieked when a plate flew past her head to explode on the wall behind her, missings its target by no more than an inch.

"Have you gone crazy? That´s enough now, Harry!" Ron shouted, as he protectively stepped in front of his terrified wife.

"I don´t want to see any of you in my house again, or I will kill you like the vermin you are!" Harry hissed with a vicious smile on his face, pulling his wand out in one fluid motion to point it at his best friends.

Draco, who had been standing to the left side of Harry, now directed his own wand at his love´s temple, something he would never have thought possible.

"Ron, take Hermione out of here," Draco said with a voice as shaking but decided as his wand hand. He did not want to hurt Harry, but he would, if he was forced to.

Ron sent a last lingering look at Harry and Draco, embraced his crestfallen looking wife closely and pointed his wand at them. "_Apparate_!"

"You-" Harry hissed, irate, turning his head to send an intense gaze filled with unadulterated hatred at Draco. "You dare to raise your wand against me?"

Draco yelped with surprised anguish and staggered back, when a hard hand made contact with the side of his face, snapping his head to the side with the brutal force behind it.

"_Stup_-" Draco hissed as soon as he had overcome the initial shock of having been hit by Harry, a Harry who had never been prone to violence.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry shouted, proving his battle-tried magical skills once again, as he sent Draco´s wand flying into the air before the blonde could stun him.

Harry caught Draco´s wand with his left hand, an ugly sneer twisting his features. Draco shivered at the look in Harry´s eyes.

"Harry, please, I love you!" Draco tried his last desperate approach, hoping that somehow the old Harry would resurface, the Harry who loved him and protected him.

"I told you not to call me Harry," Harry said quietly, his face an expressionless mask again, sending a shudder down Draco´s back. "_Crucio_!"

Draco was completely taken by surprise by the torturing curse Harry directed at him. The agony searing through his body brought him to his knees, which elicited a satisfied grin from the man he loved. He tried so hard not to scream, tried not to show how much Harry hurt him, but Harry´s Cruciatus Curse rivalled even the deceased Dark Lord´s with its incredible force behind it. The pain raced like fire through his body, devouring his bones and muscles, stretching his tendons until they snapped, stealing the air out of his struggling lungs and lacerating his heart. Finally his mind was shrouded in agonizing, red haze, the pain silencing his last conscious thought, shredding his will to endure--and he screamed.

Harry looked up in confusion, wondering what he was doing in his study with a shot of firewhiskey in his hand. Well, maybe he had wanted to get something to drink for them. He took the bottle, which stood in front of him and leisurely strolled back into the living room, a happy smile on his face. His steps became slower when he entered the room and found it empty. There was an odd rhythmic sound reverberating in the room, and it took him some moments to realise that it resembled ragged breathing.

Slowly he stepped around the large sideboard to find a trembling Draco sitting on the ground, huddling into the corner behind it.

Draco looked up at Harry with wide, frightened eyes, slightly relieved when he found that Harry was holding a glass with firewhiskey in one hand and the corresponding bottle in the other one instead of a wand pointing at him.

"Where is everybody? Did you fight with Ron?" Harry asked, startled by a prominent bruise on Draco´s left cheek, right over the cheekbone.

Draco just shook his head, still not moving out of his corner, as he watched Harry carefully. He could not stop trembling, as the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse were still raging like a rabid beast through his body, and the best he could do was not to moan with pain. Harry had not removed the curse from him until Draco had stopped screaming on the brink of losing consciousness. He watched with trepidation as Harry placed the firewhiskey on the sideboard, flinching when his boyfriend offered him his hand to help him up.

"Don´t-" Draco whispered, shaking his head again, as he stared at Harry´s hand.

They both started when there was a sudden whooshing sound coming from the large fireplace and Ron stepped out of the green flames, wand in hand, closely followed by Fred and George. Harry´s smile melted into a frown when the three brothers raised their wands, each of them having only one target--his heart.

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_A/N This plotbunny did not stop biting me. It was one of my first ones and came back to harass me again, so I decided to use this fine day to write a chapter and post it. If you are interested in reading the full story, please, leave a review. The plot might be a bit overdone (though would you know now if it´s the old horcrux story or a mad Harry..), but I hope to have a unique twist to the plot. I have the story completely planned out but not written. This way I will let your response decide if I should continue this story or start another one (x-shudders-x I have so many plots planned out, but not enough hands and time to write everything at once as I would want to). Btw., this story will have no influence on the posting of Demonchild, as I will definitely complete Demonchild. Uh, and my beta is on well-deserved holidays, so whatever mistakes you find are mine, and mine only, except of if you want to have them as a gift._


	2. Hunting The Dark

_Dearest reader!_

_By reading this story you decided to delve into dark waters._

_This fanfiction will encompass following genres: romance, angst, drama, suspense, tragedy - and horror, if you are faint of heart. Sorry, but I could choose only two. _

_I used realistic symptoms of multiple personality disorder for Harry´s problems, though his disposition to violence is exaggerated due to his war trauma. Actually it doesn´t really matter for the story, if Harry is possessed or has MPD, as both are debatable/exchangeable/non-existent according to different specialists, and I myself am not too sure if those things are not the same. All you need to know at the moment is that there is this evil thing inside him, which wants out and corrupts our good Harry! And no, he is not possessed by Voldemort._

_I have a riddle for you. From which song is this line? _

_it's all around, getting stronger, coming closer, into my world_

_The right answer will give you a glimpse on Harry´s mindset, and you will realise something else. You can listen to the song on the band´s myspace site, a nice goth band from the Netherlands. I myself am listening to Linkin Park, as I´m writing this. Papercut is so nicely mad. Did you know that Joe has an alter ego called Remy? Well, that was random, though fitting somehow. _

_This story is presently still within the T-rating range, but will later on become a solid M. There might be a nasty scene in one of the last chapters, which I can´t write other than a bit graphic, but generally I want to curb the description of sexual encounters to a more moderate level. You are very, very welcome to send me messages with your personal vote for whether moderate lemon (your bed or mine) or lime (kissing, but no shagging) and innuendo should set the tone in this story. It would help me to write what you really want to read! If it helps you to decide, Harry and Draco are 23 years old in this story. There might be het also, but nothing graphic._

_Thanks so much for the 21 reviews on the first chapter until now! Keep the reviews flowing, cause there is this nasty theory, that if you let readers wait, they have to beg for continuation with more reviews! I promise, it won´t hurt a bit to hit the button and write a small comment to tell me how you liked the chapter, but it will hurt me to see that you didn´t leave a review for me. Reading a story without leaving a review means to me, the reader was just bored enought to read the story, but the story was actually crap. Don´t make the writer cry! You want a happy writer, right? Happy writers are productive writers. Unhappy ones are the ones sitting with a heap of chocolate on their bed, glaring at their computer instead of writing._

_Love_

_Gomorrha_

_P.S.: Harry Potter doesn´t belong to me, ha, big news! _

Stand My Ground

2. Hunting The Dark

A dark figure walked silently down the shady alleyway, not deigning to look at the obscure establishments he was passing by. The shabby clad street vendors were irresistibly drawn to the imposing man in rich robes, offering cat´s paws and assorted human bones for sale, but one closer look into his face caused them to retreat with hasty apologies. He decreased his pace when the shop sign of Borgin & Burkes, the largest establishment on Knockturn Alley, came into sight. A grim smile twisted his lips, as he directed his steps towards the dingy shop.

The doorbell heralded the customer with an agonized shriek, calling forth the infamous proprietor of Borgin & Burkes, Mr. Borgin himself. The silky smile adorning the elderly wizard´s face welcomed the cloaked man, who blatantly ignored the sycophantic shop owner and imperiously strode through the dim-lit shop, considering the displayed Dark Arts artefacts attentively. With deadly boredom his eyes roamed over human skulls and blood-stained cards, smoothly gliding over a long coil of hangman´s ropes and an old violin before they came to settle on Borgin, who was eagerly watching him out of the shadows.

"Are you looking for something...special?" The shop owner´s yellow teeth were equally on display through his sly smile.

The black-clad figure didn´t answer immediately. His piercing eyes bored into Borgin´s, scrutinizing the flustered shop keeper. Borgin relaxed and chuckled briefly, when a charming smile lit up sharp features.

"I so happen to be searching for a special book, I heard you are safekeeping in your shop - the _Grimorium Malum_," the cloaked man said craftily, pouring an impressive heap of gold coins on the counter before Borgin, whose eyes widened almost imperceptibly before he licked his lips.

"Wherever you´ve heard that, you´ve heard right," the shop owner assured with a low and slightly scratchy voice, eyes darting once more to the small fortune on his counter, before he rummaged through a stack of books sitting on an old side table. With a triumphant smile Borgin placed a leather-bound tome before his arcane customer, who opened the book without further ado and started to turn page after brittle page, before he shut it carefully with a sigh on his lips.

"It is a pity - this book would be worth _so much more _if it was accompanied by the _Artavus Malus_. What do you believe how much it would be worth...Mr. Borgin? Do you think this amount would be adequate?" The cloaked figure drawled, while issuing a blank check and pushing it over the counter towards a very pale shop owner.

Borgin drew in air sharply and reached for the check, but a slight shake of a hooded head stopped his trembling hand. "I...I will have to retrieve it from the back room, sir. If you would excuse me for a moment, please?" he said with a shaky smile.

"But of course!" his customer sneered.

With glittering eyes the dark figure watched Borgin hasten away, before calm hands opened the ancient tome, and soon whispered incantations, written down in times long forgotten, resounded in the darkening shop. The book was lying closed and looking as innocent as possible on the counter, when the shop owner returned. Borgin carefully opened a piece of black silk wound around a ceremonial dagger as beautiful and lethal as anybody had ever seen, both blade and hilt shining in the purest black, which seemed to swallow the light surrounding the evil radiating artefact.

"This is a masterpiece of Dark Arts. The dagger is said to be more than a thousand years old, made of a material unknown to any living soul. It is a very powerful and dangerous -" The shop keeper tensed and reached for the check once again, when the hooded man took the dagger into his hands and leered at Borgin, an eerie smile twisting his lips. This time Borgin was not prevented from clutching the check tightly into his sweaty hand. "It was nice to do business with you. Unfortunately I have to close now. It´s time for me to go home," he said nervously.

"Yes - it´s time," the Dark wizard said almost dreamily, before he petrified the shop keeper with a small swish of his wand, who fell to the ground with a dull thud, a horrified expression edged onto his face.

With a tight sneer, the Dark wizard pushed his wand back into the sheath fixed to his forearm. His admiring gaze settled on the black dagger again, which he lovingly held supported on both palms now.

_"Artavus Malus!"_ The breathed words sounded like a declaration of love.

While one hand gripped the hilt, the fingers of the other caressed over the double-edged blade, until the hand closed tightly around the blade, dripping blood onto the ancient tome.

_"Immortalem vitam mors mortalis donat!" _the Dark wizard exclaimed with an unholy spark in his eyes. /_Mortal death bestowes immortal life_/

His incantation was immediately answered by crimson light shining through his closed fingers. The bleeding hand opened slowly to reveal gleaming runes appearing along the blood-smeared blade. With a sinister grin the cloaked man vanished Borgin´s clothes and crouched down beside him. Agonized whimpers resounded in the twilight, as ancient runes, resembling the ones gleaming on the black blade, were cut into pale skin.

"There is only one more thing for you to sell to me, Borgin - your life!" the Dark wizard said softly, the thrill of anticipation clearly showing on his face.

The ritual dagger unerringly found its way into a heart madly beating with fear, sealing Borgin´s biggest deal. There was no remorse in the Dark wizard´s blazing eyes, as they locked with eyes, blinded by death, accusingly staring at him.

ooooooo

Harry hit the alarm clock blindly, not ready to face the world yet, especially not on a Monday morning. A tortured groan escaped his lips, when the bloody thing clattered to the floor, where it happily continued to beep. Hazarding a one-eyed look he took his wand from the table and sent a croaked _"Silencio!" _at the alarm clock. He felt absolutely whacked and grumpy as hell. The bed was empty and cold without Draco, leaving nightmares as his only companions in the dark of the night.

Draco had refused to see him since Ron and the twins had stormed into Harry´s living room on Saturday afternoon, wands at ready to hex him into pieces. Harry would have snorted at the memory, if it had not hurt so much to even think about it. Draco had scrambled off the floor, grabbed his wand from the dining table and mumbled something about 'having to think', before he had disappeared in a flash of green flames.

Harry´s mind was one big swirling mess. There had been raging fear in Draco´s eyes, something Harry had not seen since the war. He fisted his hands into his shaggy, black hair. What the hell was going on? Ron had accused him of having threatened to kill him and Hermione, of having been violent and slighting, but Harry couldn´t remember anything like that. All he could remember was a nice day with the people he loved which had ended in bedlam.

For some minutes Harry contemplated calling in sick. After all, Ron had been ready to drag him to St. Mungo´s, preferably for a shock treatment after insulting his pregnant wife and unborn child. Harry owed it to the twins coaxing only, that Ron had let up on him after gifting him with a mean punch, which had almost smashed in Harry´s teeth, but the frown on his best friend´s face had shown him that the incident was not forgotten. What was the use of getting up at all, if everybody who he had been close to had suddenly turned their back on him. He had never felt so alone in his life.

Giving in to the growing urge to go to the bathroom Harry reluctantly got up. He scowled and cursed like a sailor when he tripped over the bottle of firewhiskey half hidden under his bed. He couldn´t remember most of Sunday, and his stabbing headache and the empty bottle were clue enough to him as to what had transpired. Gulping down a pain relieving potion he swore to himself to never touch a bottle again for the rest of his life. He must have been really desperate to drink himself into a coma, he thought, as he actually abhored getting drunk and losing control.

With a last glance at the time Harry put on his black robes and stepped into the fireplace, having decided to go to work instead of sitting in an empty house, wallowing in self-pity.

"Ministry of Magic!" he enunciated, before the green flames swallowed him. The swirling rush gratefully lasted for a mere second only before a gilded fireplace spit him out into the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Harry passed through the golden gates at the end of the large hall, greeting the Watchwizard at the security desk with a mumbled "Morning, Munch!", before he entered the lift to Level 2, where the Auror Headquarters was located.

"Wotcher, Harry, you´re late," Tonks looked up from the newspaper she was reading, an illegally big smile on her face and a cup of tea in her hand.

Harry rested his behind on her desk immediately. "Yeah, didn´t feel too well this morning. What´s on the agenda today?"

"Robards wants to see us," She folded the paper and looked at him with concern. "Sure you okay, Harry? You look like something the cat dragged in."

"Gee! Thank you, Tonks!" Harry pulled a face and made his way down the row of open cubicles to Gawain Robards´office, with Tonks following on his heels.

The Head of the Aurors had awaited them impatiently already, as it seemed. "No need to sit down, the two of you," he barked, "It seems there was a Dark wizard at work in Knockturn Alley. Mr. Borgin of Borgin & Burkes was reported presumably dead this very morning. I want you to Floo to his shop immediately and have a look at the situation." Not waiting for their acknowledgement, Robards grunted his dismissal.

"What a nice way to start the week," Harry remarked ironically on their way to the Floo, although inwardly he was glad to have a case to investigate, which sounded to a certain degree interesting. It would at least take his mind off his problems with Draco. Ron and Hermione would calm down, but Draco could be a pretty difficult person to deal with.

"I hope we don´t have to work together with any Hit Wizard, if Borgin was murdered. Those blokes are prigs," Tonks interrupted his brooding.

Harry chuckled softly, remembering the last time they had to work together with Hit Wizards. Tonks had gloriously managed to prove once again, that she was crap at stealth by stumbling and falling onto her nose right in front of an assembly of Dark wizards and vampires. The Dark wizards had stolen the Heart of Blood from a high security Muggle exhibiton, a giant ruby which was rumoured to be able to turn vampires into day-walkers, and had just been about to hand it over to the vampire leader in exchange for a fortune in gold and some vials of freely given vampire blood when Tonks gave their presence away. Needless to say, the Hit Wizards with their jokes and slights had made sure, that Tonks was never able to live it down.

Back in the Ministry´s Atrium Harry entered one of the exiting fireplaces first, to avoid both of them arriving at the same time, and to keep Tonks out of possible immediate danger. "Knockturn Alley!"

A cold shiver ran down his back as he stumbled out of the fireplace at Borgin & Burkes, wand at the ready. The place reeked of Dark magic and decay. Borgin was lying on the ground beside the counter, his bared body covered in Dark symbols crusted with old blood. The elderly wizard had been dead for some time already, judging by the putrid smell emanating from the corpse. Flies were swarming around the greyish body and eyes and nostrils were alive with maggots.

Harry started when a whooshing sound followed by a loud rumble announced his partner´s arrival.

"Merlin´s beard!" Tonks screwed up her nose and pressed her hand over mouth and nose, as she stared at the dead body with utter revulsion.

"Too right!" Harry forced out between clenched teeth, fighting for some seconds against his stomach´s attempt to get rid of it´s meagre contents.

It was now that he became aware of the faces pressed against the window in the shop´s entrance door with morbid curiosity. Irked by the blatant show of disregard for the dignity of the dead he levitated a shelf filled with sculls in front of the door, uncaring that some of them fell to the floor with hollow sounding thuds and rolled over the dusty wood floor.

Impatiently Harry kicked one of them, which had come to rest by his right foot, out of his way, as he stepped closer to Borgin´s body. Crouching down he tried to raise one of those discoloured forearms with the help of his wand, unwilling to touch the dead body with his bare hands. The limb resisted the movement noticeably.

"The rigor mortis has already somewhat dissipated, which means he was killed between 12 and 36 hours ago - there are maggots, so the flies´eggs had a day time to hatch, but the larvae are tiny. He can´t have been dead for more than two days," Harry mumbled, before he cast a spell on the corpse. "_Calor interius_. There is no body heat left, which also proves that death occured 24 hours ago at least."

"Fine, now we know that he was killed between Saturday morning and Sunday morning, though I doubt he was killed during opening times, or we would have been notified earlier," Tonks chocked out. Her dark eyes contrasted sharply with her now pasty skin, as they met Harry´s sparkling ones.

"I think so, too. It´s safe to assume, that whoever did this, killed Borgin between the time he usually closed his shop and Sunday morning," Harry was like a hound - once finding the track of a Dark wizard nobody could stop him. He loved his job, no matter how nasty things became once in a while. With great interest he examined the symbols, which had been brutally cut into the skin. Judging by the amount of blood, Borgin had been alive, when the Dark wizard had marked him for the ritual murder. "I never saw these symbols before. What about you, Tonks?"

"Nope, no idea also. Let´s take pictures of them and we can try to look them up. It must be some kind of blood magic. I´d prefer to get out of here as soon as possible - before I start retching for good," the presently green-haired woman said, unpacking a wizarding camera she was carrying in a shoulder bag with her.

"You should really change to office duty, Tonks. I can´t understand how Remus can allow you to continue working as an Auror, now that you are pregnant. And you´re supposed to tell Robards also," Harry said, while he slowly went through the shop, looking for anything able to give them clues to what and who had happened.

"Remus loves me and that´s why he allows me to do anything which makes me happy," a sulky Tonks answered, "and I´m going to tell Robards soon enough. I´m only two months along."

Harry gave her a lopsided smile. "I´d have never thought that you will tame Remus to such extend. You can really twist him around your little finger."

"As if you and Draco were any different!" Tonks shot him a saucy grin between two pictures she was taking.

Harry immediately sobered. He was missing Draco like hell, and the idea of the blonde keeping his distance for even one more day made his heart and lungs constrict with something akin to an anxiety attack. "Draco and I had a fall out. Obviously I don´t know how to treat him right."

"What happened?" Tonks asked, concerned.

Harry turned her back on his partner and friend, unwilling to let her see the scowl edged onto his face.

"I don´t know," he said glumly, examining the shelves filled with all kind of strange and sinister nick-nack with seemingly full concentration, especially an ornate crystal bottle filled with Fay´s Dew, as the small tag stated. "Did you see, Tonks? Fay´s Dew. It´s said to make a witch or wizard irresistibly beautiful."

They both knew, that he was trying to change the subject, but Tonks would have none of it.

"Since when do you give up so easily, Harry? You are not fine, and anybody who looks at you can see that. I´m sure Draco is suffering as much as you. He loves you, Harry, and love can´t be destroyed by one single misconduct. Why don´t you simply go and pay him a visit. The enmity between you and his father shouldn´t stop you. Bring him his favourite chocolates or anything he likes, talk it out with him and then you do some make-up kissing and you know how the rest works."

A small smile played over Harry´s lips, as he decided that to simply visit Draco at Malfoy Manor would most likely be the easiest way to get Draco to see him. Hell, he would fall onto his knees in front of Lucius Malfoy to beg Draco to forgive him for whatever he had done, if that was the only way to make things as they had been before. Draco´s father would surely hex his bits off on sight, but he was not an Auror for nothing - he would retaliate! Harry snickered at the ludicrous image of Lucius Malfoy´s facial expression after realising that his manhood was missing, which repeatedly played in his mind like a wizarding picture.

"You´re right, Tonks. I´ll go to the manor and talk to Draco," Harry finally agreed, enjoying the warm and fluttery feeling of happiness in his belly for the first time in two days again.

Tonks nodded with twinkling eyes. "I´m done with the pictures. I´ll go and notify the Headquarters, so the corpse will be removed. Coming?"

"No, I´ll still look around to search for any clues, and maybe the knife which was used in killing Borgin." Harry watched how Tonks disappeared in the fireplace where he had been spit out the first time ever he had used the Floo, which felt like a lifetime ago to him.

With a sigh he turned towards the entrance to the back-room, to have a closer look at it. There was not much to discover - a desk and chair, some accounting records, which Harry decided to take along to the office, boxes filled with different artefacts and a small stove and a loo at the back of the room. Dropping the books onto the counter he tried to find any other useful evidence. When he pressed himself almost flat to the ground to have a good look under the counter in search for the murder weapon he glimpsed something else. There was a tiny glimmer of white in the corpse´ left hand.

Curiously Harry pried the stiff fingers open to reveal a tiny piece of paper. It took him some moments to make sense of the smooth parchment, showing the edge of a printed form and a single line of ink. Borgin had clutched a check in his hands at some time, a check which had been torn out of his resisting hand. The killer had probably used a _Petrificus Totalus _to keep his victim immobile during the agonizing ritual. Harry frowned as he examined the tiny snippet more closely.

Only the richest wizarding families were provided with checks by the Gringotts goblins - the Parkinsons, the Montagues and the Malfoys, as far as he knew. The check had obviously been issued, as the fraction of a night-blue line proved. Harry´s frown grew, as he stared at the cut off line of ink, wondering about the sense of déjà vu he was experiencing. Realisation finally hit him like a blow in the solar plexus. He had seen this certain colour before, so different from the crimson, emerald, blue or black ink sold on Diagon Alley. It was Muggle ink he himself had purchased and given to a special person as a present.

Silently he crumpled up the tiny piece of paper and pushed it into his pocket.

_A big 'Thank you!' to everybody, who reviewed the first chapter!_

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	3. Take My Hand

_The rights of 'Harry Potter' belong to Joanne K. Rowling and Warner Brothers._

_I make no money with writing fanfiction._

_'Burden of Sacrifice' - Full Blown Rose_

I feel the darkness blanket over me  
Seems like forever I've been paralyzed  
What is the reason you have come to beckon me  
I feel the energy rush through my veins.

_Take my hand...rescue me  
Justify...set me free  
Break me down...make it right  
Burden of sacrifice  
_

Sometimes I wonder why I'm here at all  
A thousand faces yet I'm feeling so alone  
Your whispers calling me you speak my name  
How can I save you when I couldn't save myself

Stand My Ground

3. Take My Hand

Draco was sitting in one of the giant wing chairs by the ornate fireplace in his father´s study, slowly sipping his brandy while he was staring into the dancing flames. His thoughts were as dark as the night closing in. Harry´s unexplainable aggression had unnerved him to an extend he did not even want to admit to himself. It had brought back memories of the war, of captivity and torture, memories he had desperately tried to suppress with all his might.

The memories had left him with insomnia, and whatever sleep he could find was filled with nightmares. The thought alone of going to bed was unbearable without a numbing amount of alcohol in his blood. It was a very unpractical way to get through the night and soon his father would notice the constant depletion of his alcoholic supply, but as fate willed he was allergic to sopophorous beans, the only ingredient used in every bloody sleeping draught. Draco groaned with annoyance and placed the glass on a side table, disgusted at his weakness and the taste of the beverage.

He loved Harry, truly loved the emotional Gryffindor, but since that awful afternoon he was scared stiff at the thought of meeting him. His eyes, those sparkling, warm depths filled with nothing but love and laughter, had suddenly looked malicious and soulless. They had frozen his soul and filled him with primal fear unlike anything he had experienced before, promising pain and death.

The soft pattering of feet alerted him to the presence of a young house-elf, who looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "Popsy is sorry to disturb Master Draco, but Harry Potter come to see Master Draco," the tiny house-elf squeaked with nervously flapping ears, before it let out a high-pitched squeal and Disapparated with a loud crack.

Draco immediately felt his body tensing with anxiety. Harry boldly stepped into the room, barely able to save his left ear from the curse zipping past his head to explode against the wood panelled wall. Draco smirked inwardly at the stunned expression on Harry´s face.

"Stay where you are!" Draco cautioned, surprised at how tired and worn out he sounded.

Harry obediently froze on the spot. Visibly uneasy, his eyes moved from the wand Draco was unwaveringly pointing at him to finally meet his steely glance. Draco cringed at the sorrow he could see in those soft green orbs, but the fear which was gnawing at him was forcing him to keep his distance to the man he loved. This was not the vicious creature who had tortured him without mercy, this was his Harry. The insecure smile, the puppy-look, everything was in its place, and still -

"What are you doing here, Harry?" Draco asked warily.

"Draco, I - I came to say sorry." Harry´s sheepish and hopeful expression warmed his heart and abated his fears. "I need you. It´s killing me to be without you. I don´t know what came over me that day. That was not me. I don´t know what is going on with me, hell, I can´t even remember any of the things Ron said I did. I don´t know what is wrong with me, but I can´t do this alone. Don´t leave me, Draco, please!"

Draco slowly lowered his wand, as emotions overwhelmed him. His soul craved Harry, he wanted to be with him, to be loved by him. To see Harry begging him to come back to him filled him with love and joy. Harry wanted him and needed him as much as he wanted and needed Harry. They were meant to be together. Whatever was wrong with Harry, they would work it out together. Harry needed him, he couldn´t kick him out now as he was in trouble. He couldn´t.

"Will you give me another chance?" Harry whispered beseechingly, waiting with bated breath for Draco´s answer.

Draco hesitated for a moment as a wave of misgiving washed over him, but then he saw the tears glistening in Harry´s eyes. There was no way for him to refuse his love. Harry obviously had not been in his right mind when he had hurt him. It would be cruelty to make him pay for it. Harry didn´t deserve this. This was the same man who had believed Draco to be against the Dark Lord when nobody else had believed him, the man who had saved him from slowly being tortured to death at the Death Eaters´hands, the man who had given him his trust and love when everybody had warned him against it, and this was his chance to be there for Harry, to repay him in kind.

He put his wand away and nodded, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. "Come here, silly Gryffindor! But I warn you, if you run mad once again, I will hex your balls off," Draco drawled lazily, as Harry knelt between his legs on the seat of the large chair.

"I promise, I´ll be good," Harry laughed against Draco´s lips. "I missed you so much."

"Missed you too," Draco breathed as Harry kissed his way down his neck, enjoying to have his boyfriend back in his embrace.

Harry moaned when their lips met for a deep kiss, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. Draco´s heart started to beat faster, echoed by the throbbing in his growing member. He arched against his lover with a pleased groan, when an insistent knee rubbed against his bulging crotch. How much he wanted to just tear off Harry´s clothes and take him right here in front of the fire. Hungrily he licked over Harry´s salty skin, tearing at the stubborn buttons of his shirt, until finally his lips closed around a rosy nipple. He knew that it turned Harry on within seconds, if he sucked and licked the tiny buds. Draco grinned when Harry tensed before he released a shuddering moan.

"Draco, Gods, I want you, but not here, let´s go to my place," Harry gasped as he sagged bonelessly against him. "I don´t want your father walking in on us."

For a moment there was an uneasy feeling fluttering through Draco´s stomach at the thought of going to Harry´s house with him, but then he grinned at his own stupidity. Nothing bad would happen to him over there, as Harry was back to his old loving and obviously very horny self. Slowly he pushed Harry off of him.

"Let me write a note for my parents to know where I am," Draco said, shifting his appendage into a more comfortable position as he made his way over to the stately desk. He loved this desk, which was in his family´s possession for over two hundred years already. The intricate carvings depicted snakes winding around lions, a design Draco had liked even before he had fallen in love with a Gryffindor.

"Is this the ink I´ve given to you?" Harry asked with a curious face, as he molded his body against Draco´s back to look over his shoulder.

Draco nodded appreciatively, as he put the gilded fountain quill back into its drawer between his father´s collection of quills.

"And you leave it here in the study where your father can use it as well?" Harry asked, blinking at the inkpot sitting innocently on the polished wood.

"I poured half of mine into an empty pot of Sribbulus Everchanging Inks and cast a Self Refilling Charm on it. You know how father is. He likes things nobody else possesses. I didn´t tell him that the ink was Muggle made and on top of that a present from you." Draco smirked mischievously. "If he knew he would burn all his business correspondence. Maybe one day I´ll tell him. I hope you don´t mind?"

"No. No, of course not." Harry was still staring at the inkstand, shaking his head slowly.

"I´m sorry," Draco said with a small frown, reaching for the small inkpot. "I can see that you are not happy about it. I will take it back to my room."

"No! It´s okay, Draco. I´m fine with it, believe me, very fine!" Harry said with a warm smile, placing his hand on Draco´s to stop him. "Let´s leave right now!"

"Yes, let´s do so," Draco agreed with a sensual smile, as he turned around to embrace Harry.

When Harry drew his wand Draco´s stomach constricted with fear, the agony of the Cruciatus Curse having raged through his body only days ago still fresh in his memory. In an act of volition Draco closed his eyes and rested his head on Harry´s shoulder, as he tightened his arms around him. He would trust Harry not to hurt him willingly.

"_Apparate_!" Harry´s quiet voice sent them spiralling through space.

Wind was pleasantly rushing through his hair, a crescendo of sounds drowning out his quickening heartbeat, before they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs, laughing like children until their eyes met, quickly followed by their lips.

"Don´t ever leave me again, Draco!" Harry whispered gravely. "I love you!"

Draco´s answer was cut off by hard lips crushing his own and soon he was in a sensual daze, unable to think of much more than to give in to his desire. Harry navigated them to the bedroom, more stumbling than anything else, as they refused to let go of each other. Their clothes were marking their path towards the bed, impatiently torn off as the need to feel more skin grew.

"I want to go first," Harry panted, nudging Draco´s legs apart to uncompromisingly devour the most secret places of his lover´s body.

Even though Draco had wanted to take Harry, as he did most of the times they were together, he could not resist the mind-blowing sensations the other man elicited in his body with his skilful ministrations. He flinched violently when Harry entered him, unable to suppress the moan betraying both pleasure and pain. Encouraged by the heatedly whispered 'I love you' over and over falling from Harry´s sultry lips Draco rapidly yielded to the waves of ecstasy flowing through his body, his lower lip securely caught between his teeth as he looked up into the face of his beloved.

Harry captured his lips once again, as they reached the peak of pleasure together, greedily swallowing Draco´s throaty cry. Panting with exhaustion, their hearts still racing, they relished the feel of their sweat-covered bodies still pressing against each other. The bliss and satisfaction Draco felt was mirrored in Harry´s eyes. He secretly regretted it when Harry finally pulled out and lay down by his side, his head supported by his arm to look down at Draco´s face once again.

"Draco, I want you to stay with me." he said quietly, his green eyes shining with a deep happiness.

Draco smiled lazily. "Of course I will stay. Your bed is far too comfortable to leave it to go home tonight."

"No, I meant - I want you to move in with me. I want you to live here together with me, not at the Manor."

Draco looked at Harry with raised brows, surprised at the unexpected suggestion. They had talked about it before, but not once had Harry asked him to move in. It had been the same kind of topic like adopting a child, something out of daydreams which was far from real life for them. After all only very few people knew about their relationship, only family and close friends. To live together would be a dead give away of what was going on between them, something both of them had not been ready to face in the past.

"Are you sure, Harry?"

"Absolutely! I can go with you to the Manor tomorrow evening, right after work, and help you to pack. I want to have you in my life, Draco. I don´t give a damn on what people will say when they find out that we are together, I just care about being with you." Harry bent down to press a soft kiss on Draco´s lips. "I´m completely lost without you, Draco. These last days I felt like falling apart. I can´t stay without you. I need you with me, please!"

Draco´s mind was racing, his thoughts and emotions seemingly captured in a whirlwind. Some hours ago he had not even wanted to see Harry and now their relationship was on the best way to go public. They would live together like a real couple; the tiring games of hiding what they felt would be over and forgotten. His father would surely throw a fit and his friends would possibly shun him, but it would be worth it.

"Tomorrow evening," Draco confirmed, before he pushed a happily grinning Harry onto his back and rolled on top of him. "And now it´s my turn."

**A special thanks to the brave reviewers of the second chapter:**

**Ann, Glass Puddle, phoenixtears331, BohemianSnitch, kozie, Prophet of the Waves, potterluvva, Twitch Hopeless-Savage**

_As Glass Puddle was the only one giving her vote, moderate lemon will be the tone of this story, as you could already see in this chapter._

_Oh yes, this chapter was sappy happy fluff - I hope you enjoyed it - but just you wait..._

_By the way, as I just got a review that the story is boring as hell I will post the next chapter in about two weeks time instead, as I need to look over what I wrote to see if I can improve anything. I hate writing rubbish, and I won´t ask for reviews again as well, as obviously I don´t deserve them..._


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